


Permission to be Heard

by PeterStark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bravery, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Irondad, Keep moving forward, Not Beta Read, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, References to Depression, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Therapy, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spiderson, there is always hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 10:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17865374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterStark/pseuds/PeterStark
Summary: Tony knows there's something up with Peter.Peter knows he needs help, he just doesn't know how to ask.





	Permission to be Heard

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a self-help therapy piece, just me writing out some feels. Don't know if it'll be any good, but it was cathartic to write. Peter is going through depression and anxiety along with a few other things, nothing is graphic. I wish everyone had a Tony in their lives.  
> I own nothing.

Tony tinkered with his suit. Pepper was going to be pissed with how late he'd been up, but he really was just minutes from a breakthrough, he could tell. "Sir, Karen sent me something odd, today." FRIDAY said suddenly.

"Hm? Is Pete alright?" Tony wondered, straightening up. Did he need to go get his suit? Was the kid falling out of the sky? Or worse, was he under some building? Tony shivered at the thought. He wouldn't let that happen again.

"It would seem that he's been going out three nights a week."

"But he patrols almost every night. Not abnormal." Tony shrugged, at least his, not his!, THE kid wasn't trapped or dying. Those calls always sent him right into panic mode.

"Sir, he's going out without his suit. Karen says he mentioned working part time."

"Working? Like, having a job, that kind of working?" Tony paused. Peter did sometimes seem bothered about money. He'd mentioned on occasion that he'd worried about the effect his enhanced metabolism had on his Aunt's grocery costs. Tony made sure the kid ate whatever the hell he wanted whenever he came over, but it hadn't gotten that tight at the Parker house, had it? "Could you bring up May Parker's finances for me?"

"Sir, I wouldn't exactly call that ethical."

"Then eyeball them for me, FRI." Tony called before he looked at the screen and the numbers that ran across them. They weren't well off, they didn't have much room for extras, but they definitely had what they needed to cover their bills and food. As far as Tony knew Peter still hadn't gotten the courage to ask out that girl he liked, so he didn't need money for that...what was the kid doing? "How many hours is he working?"

"About fifteen, sir."

Tony didn't like it. Peter was a student, an intern, in a club, and spent most of his free time swinging through Queens as a superhero. Did he really have the time to add a job to that mix? Tony did the quick math. Forty hours at school. Five hours for decathlon. Sixteen hours a week for the internship. Approximately thirty-five hours a week for superheroing. Fifteen hours at a part time job. Add in the time for homework. Give him a few hours or so with Ned and MJ a week, plus the dinners with May. Plus time for travel to school and the compound.....

Pete was getting, at the very most, four and a half hours of sleep a night, if he didn't waste any breath on taking care of himself. It was Peter though, he was likely pouring part of that time into taking care of someone else.

"Shit." Tony frowned. Fifteen hours would at least get the kid some more sleep or some time to do what he wanted to do, or give him time to take care of himself. "How long has he been working?"

"Four months, sir. It appears he hasn't spent any of his money, either. As far as Karen or I can tell."

"What would a kid need the money for?" Tony frowned. What if the internship became a paid one? Sure I'd already set aside money for whatever college he wanted to go to, but damn, if he needed money why didn't Peter just ask.

"I don't know, sir." FRIDAY answered. "Do you wish me to monitor him closer, sir? He talks very openly to Karen, perhaps we can have her try to figure it out?"

"I'll ask him." Tony waved her off. "We'll get to the bottom of it. I don't like the fact that he's doing all that work on just four hours of sleep. He's a fucking teen. Aren't they supposed to get like, eleven hours of sleep or something like that?"

"Most teenagers need a minimum of eight hours of sleep, but most tend to go for nine to eleven hours of sleep each night. Considering Peter's enhanced body, he likely needs more sleep. I'll check Karen's vital readings the next time he puts on the suit. He may very well be at risk of sleep deprivation."

"I'll pick him up from school today. Tell May. In fact, send her a message, ask if I can keep him here through the weekend. I want to have a chat with him about this."

"Shall I inform her of the situation?"

"No, just say it's an internship thing." Tony didn't know what he was getting into, but he didn't want to break the kid's trust. If he hadn't told May, then there was likely a reason for it. "Let me know when she gets back to me."

"Yes, boss."

-

Peter stepped out of school and looked with wide eyes at the fancy car out front. It was one of Mr. Stark's, but...it was Thursday. Why was one of Mr. Stark's cars there? Peter slowly walked up to it and headed for the back door, but Happy rolled down the front window, except it wasn't Happy who called out to him. "Hey, front seat, Underoos."

Peter's eyes widened and He climbed into the car. "Mr. Stark? What are you doing here?"

"Eh, I figured I'd get you out on good behavior. You're ditching tomorrow. I figure, lab day, pizza, movie, the works. Then May said you could stay all weekend. She was a bit pissed that I texted her so early in the morning, though, so I'm probably in the doghouse for that."

Peter brightened up. "Awesome! Are you sure it's alright?"

"Yeah, only condition is that I send you home in one piece, so...I guess we can't blow up the lab this time, alright?"

"Sweet!" Peter grinned.

"Buckle up, even spiderbabies have to wear seatbelts."

"I could literally climb out the window and stop this car from crashing if it were going ninety and still not set off the airbags." Peter pointed out.

"And that's a cute trick, but you're putting on the seatbelt or you're walking upstate and I'll take your webshooters."

Peter huffed and buckled the seatbelt. They were uncomfortable things, not to mention he could just stick to the seat if he wanted, but hey, rules were rules. They drove in relative quiet. Tony refrained from blasting his music, which Peter was grateful for. In fact, he noticed that Tony rarely let his music get too loud when Peter was around. It was nice to have someone who noticed that his senses maxed everything out. Though the music was old, Peter had learned some of the words and sang along with a few of them.

The longer the drive went on though, the more nervous Peter got. There were forms in his bag. He'd carried them around for months. He knew he'd have to talk to Tony about it, because he sure as hell wasn't going to May, but he wasn't ready. He didn't want to...but...really what else could he do? He stopped singing and stared out the window, trying not to look as anxious outwardly as he felt on the inside.

When the compound was only a few miles out, Tony turned down the music. "So, kid, you gonna tell me what you're up to or do I need to do it?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. Hopefully Tony hadn't noticed how anxious he'd become. "If this is about that firefight the other day, I didn't even get grazed. I was fine, really. I got the baddies and everything. Your suit is amazing by the way, like super intuitive."

"Flattery will...you know what, flattery actually does get people pretty much anywhere, but not today kid. What's going on in the world of Underoos?"

"I don't know what you mean..." Peter looked out the window.

"How about the part-time job you haven't told anyone about? Seriously, kid, why are you working on top of everything else? Aren't you busy enough? And why wouldn't you tell me or May? Hell, if you needed money you could've just asked. It isn't like I don't already have a trust fund set up for you. Literally, you know you could ask for anything, right kid? I don't just make multi-million dollar suits for anyone. You can ask me for anything."

Peter looked down at his hands. "How'd you find out?"

"FRIDAY. I do keep an eye on you. It's part of my deal with May." It was a rule of Tony and May's 'co-parenting.' They'd agreed on it around the same time that she and Tony had decided he'd be the second of Peter's legal guardians. They hadn't told Peter about it. May hadn't wanted Peter worrying that May was thinking ahead about such things, but after Ben had been killed she told Tony that she'd desperately wanted to find Peter a godparent. She knew life could come and go as it pleased. Tony and her didn't often see eye to eye, but they both loved Peter and they both knew they'd do anything to keep him safe and happy. Tony had been Peter's second legal guardian for five months. "I look out for you when she can't, kid. That's part of the deal."

Peter didn't say anything.

"You in trouble, Underoos? I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on. Well, that's a lie, but I really didn't want to invade your privacy like that. I like to think that the Baby Monitor Protocol is invasive enough I figured I'd actually ask you this time." Tony pulled up to the compound and put his car in park. "You gonna stare into space all day, kid?"

Peter reached into his pocket and began to fiddle with his fidget item. He kept a mini controller in his pocket. To anyone else it was a video game keychain, but to him it was a comfortable link to sanity. "Um...can we talk inside?"

Tony turned to look at Peter and frowned. "Yeah, kid. You alright?"

Peter shook his head but grabbed his backpack and got out of the car. He was aware that Tony was walking closer than he normally did, but Peter didn't look up at the man. He fiddled in his pocket and kept his eyes down. His backpack felt like it was full of bricks instead of paper and books. They made it to Tony's lab and Tony sealed the doors. Peter was grateful for it. He knew they were alone. It would make it easier. Why was it so difficult though? Peter put his bag on a bench and unzipped it. He pulled out a folder and stared at it instead of Tony.

"Kid, you're scaring me. You okay?"

Peter held the folder tightly, his hands shaking. Then he held it out. He saw Tony reach for it and he yanked it to his chest. "Don't tell May."

Tony froze. He'd heard those words before, but this time there was more than just anger and protectiveness. This time there was terror added to that mix. Tony's eyes widened. He couldn't mess this up. Peter was trusting him with something big. He had to help the kid, he was obviously stressed out. He'd been willing to keep it secret that the kid ran around in spandex to fight crime, he could keep whatever was in the folder a secret too. "I promise, Peter. I won't tell May, but you have to let someone help you with this, okay? Whatever this is." He nodded down to the folder.

Peter's hands shook and his eyes got glassy. Slowly, he held out the folder.

Tony didn't take it, he waited, what must've been over a full minute, for Peter to set the folder down in his hand. Tony wrapped his fingers around it and waited for Peter to let go.

Peter's voice shook. "I was going to have to ask you...I can't do this on my own...but I didn't know how to..."

Tony didn't like how quiet and upset Peter sounded. "Can I look at this?"

Peter opened his mouth and a sob came out. Peter closed his eyes then nodded.

Tony opened the folder. He'd seen forms like this before. He'd filled out forms like this before. Tony's eyes widened and he pulled the papers out. There were eleven pages of information, of terms and legal business, but then there were forms, forms asking about symptoms and medical information. There was a whole page of questions that were ranked by numbers. Tony didn't mean to read them, it wasn't his business, but his mind was fast and picked up several of them, as well as Peter's markings.

Feelings of hopelessness, depression, or sadness: 9

Problems with controlling your eating habits: 7

Lack of self-worth: 10

Need to hurt others: 0

Thoughts of suicide or self-harm: 5

Feelings of anxiety or fear: 10

Trouble with motivation or focus: 3

Feeling lonely or isolated: 8

Death or illness of a significant person: 10

Legal problems: 0

Feelings of guilt: 10

Uncontrollable habits or compulsions: 7

Feelings of anger: 3

There were many zeros on the page, but Tony could see the pattern. Depression and anxiety appeared to be heavy hitters. Tony tried not to read all of them before he flipped the page. It was a consent form. Peter was a minor. He couldn't go unless a guardian signed off on it. Therapy. Peter was trying to get into a therapist. It explained why he was working, why he was saving that money, why he was shaking and crying. Jesus, Peter was crying. Tony took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around Peter. 

"Hey, it's okay, Peter. It's fine. It's fine." Tony had filled these out before. He'd had two different therapists. Deciding to go had been hard, and figuring out who he could trust to talk to was difficult, but he'd found a good therapist. He went every week and if he couldn't he called in, every time. It had been good for him. Pepper had insisted he'd go to help him with his PTSD. Tony didn't want Peter to have those problems, but part of him was glad that Peter could recognize that he needed help and that he was asking for it. "Come here, it's alright."

"No it's not. It's fucking pathetic."

Tony went still. He didn't know what the right thing to say was. "It's not wrong to need help, Peter. It's okay. We all need help."

"Not all of us are so fucking pathetic that we can only get people to listen if we pay them to."

"That's not true, Peter." Had Tony missed something? Had Peter been screaming for help and he hadn't seen it? Were there cries he hadn't heard? He hadn't noticed the signs? Peter just always seemed so happy.

"I can't..." Peter was sobbing openly against Tony's shoulder. "I try all the time. Everyone expects me to be happy so I just smile and talk, but inside I just scream and scream and it's like no one's there and I can't... I don't know how.... And I hate being around people because they make me stress out so fucking much but I don't want to be alone and it's all so stupid that I feel like this and I know people have been through worse, but I can't just make it stop. And I'm old enough to have all these hurts and agonies and I run around saving lives every day, but I still have to fucking get permission for my voice to be heard and I'm just so...so tired."

Tony understood. He put masks on all the time. He knew what it was like to smile outside and wish someone would just look twice and see that inside he was begging for anyone to save him. "You can always talk to me, I promise that, Pete. There's no shame in this, though. I've been seeing a therapist for five years, Peter, did you know that? That's why I don't tend to have meetings on Tuesdays. It's okay. But why don't you want May to know?"

"She'd feel guilty. She'd think it was her fault that I'm fucked up and I can't do that to her. She never hurt me...I mean she wouldn't want to hurt me. Plus she'd want to pay for it and...I can't do that, Mr. Stark. I can't." Peter pulled himself away, but refused to meet Tony's eyes.

Tony stared at the kid. "Why'd you come to me?"

"You may stalk people with cameras, but I guess I even the playing field with these." Peter lifted a hand and pointed to his ear. "Super hearing, remember? I heard you and May settle things. I know you're a guardian. I don't know why the hell you'd saddle yourself with me, but I know you did for whatever reason."

"First off, I didn't 'saddle' myself with you, you aren't a burden. Second of all I love you, that's why." Tony bit his lip. Damn, those words were easier to say than he'd expected. The last time he'd said them to someone who wasn't Pepper had been his father and he'd been scoffed at for his sentiment. Hell it had taken him years to say those words to Pepper, but with Peter, they just came up so easy. It was a fact. Tony loved Peter. Simple as that. "Thirdly, rude. Don't eavesdrop on the adults." Tony tried to lighten the mood with humor, but it didn't work. Tony grabbed a pen and signed and dated the forms. "Peter, you don't have to go to work. You've got too much on your plate as it is. You can use those hours to get some sleep and take care of yourself, I'll pay for this." Tony promised as he looked up the institution and the therapist on his phone, making sure Peter was in good hands. Satisfied and proud that Peter had done his research and not just gone for the place with the cheapest rate (as Peter tended to do), he put his phone down. "Look, it's okay. We all struggle with something, but only the strong ones admit to needing help with it. It isn't brave to run and hide when you're in trouble, but it is warrior bravery to admit that you need help. You're strong, Peter, you're so strong."

"I don't feel that way. I feel scared."

"You wouldn't feel scared if you weren't challenging yourself. Most people just sit in their problems, content to wallow and never get better. You're being brave, just like I know you are."

"You don't have to pay for it, Mr. Stark." Peter shook his head. "I can do it."

"How often do you plan on going?"

"Three weeks a month." Peter said. "It's what I can afford."

"Okay...how about you go four times a month and you take a paid internship with me. I mean, hell, you've helped me fix a bunch of things. You're better than my paid employees, so how about we do that? You're already here more than that job at the restaurant and I promise I pay better. I'll even make sure you pay with cash. I know your account is linked with May's, so she could find out if she decided to pry through your statements. How about we take care of it that way, huh?"

"Mr. Stark...." Peter bit his lip.

"And if you want me to go with you, even to just sit in the waiting room, I can do that." Tony promised. "I'm here for you, kid."

Peter closed his eyes and tried not to cry. He'd already cried and that was pathetic. How could he cry in front of Tony Stark of all people? That was embarrassing! Peter wanted to hold his shit together, but once he started, the hurt was so hard to contain, so hard to stop. Tony though, his words felt like a balm. "You won't tell May?"

"I get it, Underoos. I know you're scared, and, one day, you might want to tell her, but you can do that when you're ready. As long as you promise to tell me if you're hurting or if you feel like you're in trouble. I still have anxiety attacks kid, you've seen them. I still panic and freeze up. I still get afraid that if I sleep I won't feel the motivation to get back up. I'm a lot better, Peter, but it still happens. It's a process and I'm going to be there with you, but you gotta be honest. I know it feels like you're screaming, but sometimes we're really good at hiding our pain when we think we're begging for help. You just have to be honest with me. We have to be open with each other. Hell, I'll even tell you when I'm freaking out. I freak out more than you might think, I'm not always so cool and collected."

Peter nodded.

"Is that a deal, Underoos? You gotta say it. Pinkie swear and all that." Tony said, watching Peter carefully.

"I'll tell you when it's bad...it's not every day, but....sometimes it's just real bad. I know most of it's just in my head. I know it's not true...but it feels true some days." 

"Okay...your paperwork's all filled out. Wanna make the call? See when they can get you in?"

Peter's hands shook, but he nodded.

"Steady, Peter. You can do it. It'll be the bravest call you ever make and I'll be right here, okay?"

Peter nodded and let Tony ruffle his hair as he made the call. Once he finished, Tony kissed the top of his head. "My brave, Peter." Tony whispered.

"Will you come with me?"

"Promise." Tony nodded. "Well, that was a hell of a lot of stress for us, kiddo. Wanna go eat or watch trash movies? Hell, we can play video games. We have the new Smash, now or Mario Party, I know you like that one. I call dibs on Rosalina, though."

Peter threw his arms around Tony and buried his head against his chest. Without any filter, the words came out. "Thank you, Dad." They felt so right when Peter said them, but he cringed. Tony hadn't asked for a son. He didn't have the right to call himself that. It didn't matter if Tony was the closest thing to a father he could ever remember having, he shouldn't have called it out. Ben had always been an uncle and Peter couldn't remember his birth father. But Tony, he'd always been like a father. Still, why did Peter have to go and ruin it by saying-

"I love you, son, and I'm here for you, Peter, always." Tony gripped him back, tighter. "Call me, any time. If you ever need anything, I'm there, you understand that, right? You're the most important thing to me, ever. My number one priority is you. Do you know that?"

Peter, true to his word, was honest with Tony. "No. I don't know that."

"Then I'll get better at showing you. We'll work on it together, okay?"

Peter nodded.

"So, what do you want to do?"

Peter wiped his face as he pulled away. "Pikachu is going to kick Rosalina's ass."

"Language, kid." Tony ruffled his hair. "But, I accept your challenge. Come on, let's get some battles in. FRI, order us some pizza, you know the type we like. Hey, Pete, any special requests."

"Double cheese and bacon, with mushrooms, pineapple, and pepperoni!"

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Weirdo. Pineapple is not for pizza."

"Fight me, bro."

"Sure thing, do you want the blue or red joycon?" Tony asked as they headed upstairs.

Peter smiled and actually felt it. Maybe things would get better. He knew his brain lied to him, or at least believed the lies his mind spewed out sometimes, but there was a truth he'd keep close to his heart: Tony Stark cared, Tony Stark loved him.

"Dibs on the red one."

"Fight me, Underoos. I was just being polite, you know the red one's mine." Tony teased. "Come on, I don't even have blue in my suits. That's it! I'll make shells for the joycons so we can all have our super suits on them. Ours will be the coolest ones, cause we're the best. I'm thinking red with black spiderwebs for you...or maybe white spiderwebs, we'll see it later...then it would stop everyone from fighting on game night over who gets what controller...."

Yeah, things would work out. Peter smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Take care of yourselves everyone. You are important.  
> I hope you all have a good day.


End file.
